GTA III: a journey into Blue Hell
by AAAwrestlestreetAAA
Summary: Exploring the world (and otherworld) of GTA III. Chapter 5 is now up, find out what happened next! (please R&R)
1. The Shoreside Void

Okay, for those of you who don't know about Blue Hell, check out some of the areas described in my fanfic, you should be able to find it.  
  
**************************  
  
He sped across Shoreside in a battered stolen taxi. The police were hot on his heels and it looked like they were about to catch him. He swerved right and drove the taxi off the road and through a small grassy area dotted with trees. There was a small dip in the ground and the taxi bounced a little before he landed on the road outside Shoreside Airport. Casually knocking down a prostitute, spreading the contents of her skull all over the pavement then he stopped the taxi and got out, that car wouldn't hold up much longer and he didn't want to risk getting caught in an explosion.  
  
A bullet clipped his ear; a policeman was running up the road towards him, firing his pistol as he ran. He sprinted away from the cop; his eyes focused on two large billboards in front of him. The same billboards that he had found the last hidden package behind. He ran behind the signs, there was a small gap where the two boards met.  
  
He held his breath and then tried to squeeze into the gap. There was a feeling of pressure, then a ripping sensation.  
  
Suddenly he was falling. Falling away from the ground above him. Falling into the deep blue void below.  
  
Blue Hell  
  
To the casual observer Liberty City looked quite normal. Its crime rates might be a bit high and it had its fair share of Spanked up lunatics but it still looked like your normal, everyday city. One person knew different. The toughest criminal in Liberty City had found them; the areas where the boundaries of time and space were paper thin allowing him to pass through into Blue Hell, the underworld of Liberty.  
  
Further he fell into Blue Hell; he prepared himself for the impact. There was another ripping sensation then he hit the ground with a thud. He looked up and saw the bright strip-lights on the subway ceiling. It had worked! Falling into Blue Hell is risky business because you never know where you are going to land. At this particular portal he would usually land on the pavement in front of the billboards. This time he had luckily ended up in the subway station. He stood up and dusted himself off then jumped on the subway train and rode it to freedom.  
  
Meanwhile, on the surface, a nervous cop pointed his gun at the two billboards.  
  
"Okay, come on out!" He shouted before radioing for backup.  
  
'This is it!' thought the cop. 'I've got him trapped behind there, this is going to earn me my promotion!' 


	2. Portals in Portland

The tramp looked up at the rows of clothes hanging on washing lines over the alleyway he occupied.  
  
'Those clothes look warmer than mine.' Thought the tramp  
  
'But this is Mafia territory, if they caught me helping myself to their clothes they wouldn't think twice about putting a bullet in my head'  
  
As if on cue, his thoughts were met with the sound of gunshots nearby. Startled, the tramp looked down the alleyway and watched a guy running for his life towards him. He was wearing a black leather jacket and green combat pants and looked pretty nondescript but the tramp concluded that he must be somebody important because there were three members of the Mafia close behind him wildly firing their pistols in his general direction.  
  
He ran past the tramp and turned left into a small walled area. Two cop cars had blocked the other end of the alleyway.  
  
'Unlucky bastard. Wanted by the Mafia AND the police, I don't know which one is worse.' Thought the tramp.  
  
In all this commotion the tramp realised he had forgotten priority number one: STAYING ALIVE. The three Mafia goons were getting pretty close; the tramp had nowhere else to go other than to jump into the walled alcove that the mystery man was hiding in.  
  
He looked around the area, it was surrounded by high wall with seemingly no way of escape.  
  
"Looks like we're trapped in here," Said the tramp to the man  
  
He did not answer; he just looked at the orange painted wall in front of him before taking a running jump headfirst at it. The tramp cringed, expecting to see the mysterious figure crack his head against the brick but instead, he just passed right through it as if the wall was made out of thin air. Almost collapsing from surprise and fear, the tramp gasped and desperately tried to comprehend what he had just seen. The sound of hurried footsteps grew louder and the Mafia got closer to his hiding place in search of the mystery man.  
  
The tramp thought of the irony of the situation. He had just witnessed one of the most amazing sights of his entire life and his was about to die as an innocent bystander caught up in a stupid gang war.  
  
  
  
He landed hard on the tarmac, got up and brushed himself down. He had landed this time on the road in front of the alleyway he had just been running through.  
  
Blue Hell had saved his life a second time.  
  
The two cop cars blocking the entrance now had two policemen cowering behind them. They had got involved in a shootout with his Mafia pursuers and now they were beginning to regret it as bullets peppered the side of their vehicles. This gave him time to get away so he stopped a passing Stinger sportscar and dragged the driver out of his seat before sitting in his place.  
  
This was his new getaway vehicle and he was about to his the accelerator when an object in the rear view mirror caught his eye. He identified the object as a tramp falling out of thin air onto the road behind him. The tramp lay on the road dazed, looking up at the sky.  
  
He changed gear and drove the Stinger backwards. There was a bump and a sickening crunch and the tramp's crumpled body was spat out in front of his reversing car.  
  
'I can't have him knowing my little secret' he thought to himself.  
  
Suddenly the tramps lifeless body was lit up in a pool of light, then the spotlight moved and encircled the car. Debris swirled on the street as the police helicopter hovered above his vehicle.  
  
He had not escaped yet; he would need to find a place to hide. 


	3. A Bridge Too Far

Five police cars in a row created a roadblock across the middle of the Portland/Staunton suspension bridge.  
  
A single Stinger sat motionless at a distance in front of them. Its driver was stood outside the car; his arms were raised above his head. Orders were being screamed at him over a loudspeaker from one of the police cars.  
  
Up above a helicopter hovered, inside a young rookie cop manning the gun squinted down at the action.  
  
"Can you fly this thing any lower? What the hell is he doing down there?"  
  
There was an almighty bang and the helicopter shuddered as one of the cop cars exploded into a ball of fire. It wasn't long before the two cars beside it burst into flames. A chain reaction turned the entire roadblock into a mass of flaming black twisted metal.  
  
The rookie grabbed a pair of binoculars and looked down at the scene of destruction. The Stinger driver was now stood there holding a smoking bazooka. He turned the nose of the bazooka and aimed it upwards.  
  
"Oh SHI."  
  
Those were the rookie's last words before a rocket hit the helicopter. Rotorless and burning it span wildly in the air.  
  
A Stinger, driving 100mph, breezed over the bridge and onto Staunton Island backlit by the scene of a police helicopter crashing into the bridges support lines.  
  
He grinned to himself, he knew he was in big trouble but it was worth it. THAT was friggin' awesome!  
  
FLASH  
  
Like a firework, something flashed in his mind. The image of that blue eternity enveloped his thoughts. Shaking like a junkie without his hit, he tried to keep control of the car. He had had this feeling before but this time it was stronger. Blue Hell was calling him back again. It was as if the more he used Blue Hell, the more he wanted to go back again.  
  
He shook his head and gained his composure just in time to swerve out the way of a Blista pulling out in front of him.  
  
It was time to find somewhere to lay low; it wouldn't be long before the police sent out a SWAT team or maybe even the FBI. He cut across the park, churning up the grass and sending pedestrians running for cover. He turned right and headed down the street towards the stadium. The car slowed to a leisurely speed, he needed to think quickly, he couldn't go to his usual hideout, the police were probably already waiting there. He needed a place to hide for a couple of days but the Liberty City police were wise to his usual hiding places.  
  
The stadium came into view but something was wrong. Usually this road was busy at this time of day, but right now it was empty, not a single pedestrian or car on the street. Everything seemed all too quiet. He slowed the car down to a crawl and kept his eyes wide open. What was going on?  
  
A quiet rumbling in the distance, too low for him to notice suddenly got louder. From the right, a tank drove into view and stopped, parked across the road in front of him completely blocking the street. Slowly the turret on the top turned to face his car.  
  
Her hit reverse and drove backwards up the street as fast as he could before doing a 180 spin and heading back the way he had came.  
  
The army had expected him to do that, and had already manoeuvred another tank unto position at the other end of the street. They had him trapped like a mouse between two cats. or so they thought.  
  
He took a sharp right and speeded up a narrow alleyway, the boxes stacked at one end shattered into a billow of splinters as he hit them. The alleyway led out onto the street in front of the construction yard, a police car was already waiting for him but after escaping two army tanks, a police car was no problem.  
  
He drove past a multi-storey carpark and turned right towards Azuka's place. If he wanted to stay alive he would have to get off the streets and his best option was to get out on the water.  
  
With two cop cars tailing him and a tank probably not far behind, he didn't have a plan. He just knew that he had to get hold of a boat. He would worry about the details later. 


	4. The Boat Trip

He ran down the steep steps and onto the wooden jetty, he selected a sleek red speedboat and jumped in. An overweight policeman stumbled down the steps after him, but he had quickly hot-wired the boat and was skimming out over the water.  
  
He headed North to circle the island, the water was choppy but the boat soon picked up speed as he weaved his way around the large rocks jutting out of the sea.  
  
A policecar raced along the cliff edge and parked on a high ledge. It wouldn't be long before he radioed for backup and another helicopter was brought out. The boat accelerated.  
  
His grip on the speedboat's steering wheel suddenly tightened. His knuckles turned white and his nails dug into the ergonomically moulded rubber. He looked down at his hands and tried to release his grip but he was unable to budge a finger.  
  
Against his will, and all common sense, his hands turned the wheel left. His arms shook in an effort to regain control but it was useless. The boat turned sharply and headed in a new direction. in a straight line towards the rocky cliffs.  
  
The boat bobbed slowly close to the side of the cliff, out of view of the cop car. He closed his eyes as the nose of the speedboat came within inches of the cliff-face, he expected to hear the noise of metal grinding against stone but when the sound didn't come he opened them again. To his surprise the front of the boat was sticking through the rock and he found that he now had full control of his hands. He reached forward and tried to touch the stone, his hand passed through it and felt the cool air of whatever was on the other side.  
  
He had found another portal.  
  
He slowly moved the boat forward and eased it into the rock. Inside, the water was calm and the air was still. The ceiling to the place he was in looked as if the world had been turned inside out and placed upside down above him. There was water wall to wall, like an underground lake, but in the centre of the pool it was as if someone had cut out a large, football pitch sized hole. Within this hole he could see an all too familiar blue void. He was in the otherworld of the city.the very edge of Blue Hell.  
  
He nudged the boat forwards slightly so that the front was jutting out over the edge of the hole. He felt the urge to jump into Blue Hell again, but he resisted. Instead he climbed out onto the nose of the boat and peered over the edge.  
  
His eyes widened as he looked into the blue eternity, it was much vaster than he had ever imagined. He had only caught glimpses of it in the past but now he was able to study it in detail, he leaned forward as far as he could, trembling as if he was in the presence of a God. He was unable to look away; his eyes were locked on the void.  
  
Minutes passed and he just stood there, eyes staring and his mouth hanging open in awe. Strange lights started to swirl in front of his eyes and their trails left unusual symbols imprinted on his vision. Suddenly he was rising, rising until he could see the top of his head. He now existed in a ball of consciousness above his body.  
  
Blue Hell swallowed him. he felt it wrap around him and then he became a part of it. His soul had left his body and entered the void. He could sense EVERYTHING.  
  
He could feel Liberty City, he could see every citizen and he could feel their every emotion. He could feel the concrete and brick and glass in every single building. he was part of the water and the air and everything else in-between. He now understood Blue Hell. it WAS Liberty City. A culmination of everything and everyone that does, has, and ever will exist there.  
  
Suddenly he was rising again; he looked down and saw the city from a birds eye view. He was floating miles above Staunton Island and still rising. There was a familiar ripping sensation, everything went black for a second then his eyes opened. He was now sat on a bed in a room he had never seen before. In front of him was a television screen and on the television screen he could see himself, stood on the nose of the speedboat.  
  
He looked around the room, it was dimly lit and there were posters on the wall of music groups he had never heard of. He was holding something plastic in his hands, he examined it. It was black and smooth with unusual buttons and symbols on it. To him it looked like some sort of bizarre sex toy and it was connected by wire to a black box. Next to him lay a sheet of paper, on the sheet was a print out of various letters and symbols arranged in short patterns, for some reason he folded up the paper and stuck it in his pocket, somehow it looked important.  
  
He examined the plastic object again, curiously he pressed on of the buttons. The image of himself on the television screen jumped forward over the edge of the boat and fell into Blue Hell.  
  
Everything went black. 


	5. Back to Reality?

He opened his eyes, as if waking up from a deep sleep. He was back in Liberty City, lying face down on the road with a gun against his head.  
  
"Don't move!"  
  
A fat policeman was holding the gun, the officer grabbed his arms, twisted them behind his back and handcuffed him before dragging him to his feet. Three more policemen stood around him, the nearest cop un-holstered his pistol and brought the handle down on his head with a big swing. The blow caused stars in front of his eyes and he fell to his knees, his wrists twisted painfully in the handcuffs as he tried to keep his balance. The second police officer ran forward and knocked the wind out of him with a sharp kick to the stomach, he slumped to the ground and lay in a fetal position, gasping for air. He looked up and saw the third cop step forward, a large boot was raised above his head before the police officer brought his foot down on his jaw, pounding his face into the asphalt.  
  
He passed out.  
  
When he awoke he was in a small cell in the Staunton Island police station lying on the thin steel bench that was supposed to pass for a bed. He was bruised all over, his head was sore and his jaw felt badly dislocated. He rubbed his wrists where the handcuffs had been, then he patted his jacket pockets. Of course the police had taken his weapons but it was worth checking anyway. Something crumpled in his inside pocket, he pulled out a folded sheet of paper and thought back to that mysterious room where he had got it from. That room was his last memory before he had woken up lying on the road. How did he get there? How did he get back? Maybe this paper had some clues.  
  
He unfolded the note and looked at the list written on it, at the top were the words FULL HEALTH followed my a meaningless string of letters and shapes, it was some sort of code. He focused on the code, and tried to decipher it.  
  
Something changed.  
  
That's the only way to describe it. It was as if the world had shifted and changed slightly in a split second. But what was different? He looked around the cell, nothing seemed out of place. He looked down at his hands, there were no scratches and cuts on them, he looked at his wrists, the red marks where the handcuffs had cut into his skin were gone. He opened and closed his mouth. . . his jaw felt fine and so did his head.  
  
He looked back at the paper. FULL HEALTH, that must be some kind of spell. He had figured out what the code was, he didn't really care HOW it worked or WHY it worked, all that mattered was that he was now practically invincible and life could turn out to be a lot of fun from now on.  
  
He looked at the next item on the list. ALL WEAPONS, he could hardly believe his luck. He focused on the code and the world changed slightly once again. He almost fell down from the sudden increase in weight as he found his pockets suddenly filled with grenades, numerous rifles and machine guns stuffed under his jacket and a large bazooka materialized on his back held by a thick shoulder strap.  
  
He grinned.  
  
A cop snored, asleep at his desk in front of the cell, the prisoner looked through the sight of his new sniper rifle and trained the crosshair on the policeman's face. He zoomed in until he could see every eyelash on the sleeping cop's right eye. He pulled the trigger, BULLSEYE! The officer squirmed in his chair as the bullet ricocheted around the inside of his skull then, as if falling back to sleep, he stopped. Motionless, head bent forward and blood pouring out of his empty eye socket, there was a clink and a flash of silver as the bullet fell out of his brain cavity and bounced on his desk.  
  
With no chance of the cop waking up, he paced the cell looking for a way to escape. A barred window high on the back wall flooded moonlight into the room, he grabbed the window bars and pulled himself up to look outside. The view looked out over the police car park at the back of the station, a SWAT van and a couple of cars were parked there. He examined the back wall, it looked old and was crumbling in places, it could probably be broken down with a ram from a heavy vehicle from the outside. Or. . . . .  
  
The heavy metal bench scraped the floor noisily as he tipped it on its side so that the top of the bench now faced the back wall like a large steel shield. He climbed behind it and ducked down before looked up at the window again. It was small and there were 3 bars across it, this would be difficult and if he got it wrong it was almost certain death for him.  
  
He pulled a grenade out of his pocket and weighed it up in his hands, he needed to get the aim and trajectory exactly right. He took a deep breath, pulled the pin and threw, it curled across the cell on direct course for the window. There was a clank, the grenade hit one of the bars and bounced back into the cell.  
  
Sh!t  
  
He ducked down behind the bench and waited for the explosion. There was a slight hiss, then nothing but the faint smell of smoke. He peeked over the edge of the bench, the grenade lay on the ground smoking slightly but otherwise looking pretty lifeless.  
  
It was a dud.  
  
He breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed the dud bomb, and rolled it out under the cell door into the office on the other side just incase it decided to go off sometime in the future. It would probably give some police officer a nice suprise when he found it along with his dead colleague.  
  
Once again, he pulled a new grenade from his pocket and ducked behind the bench. 'Second time lucky' He thought as he hurled the grenade, it sailed across the cell and passed easily through the window. He lay down behind his shield and braced himself. There was a huge blast and the wall billowed inwards. Large pieces of brick smashed into the bench and buckled it in the middle, bits of rubble and plaster showered down on top of him.  
  
The wall was down, an alarm blared out loudly.  
  
He pushed the debris off himself and stood up, a large mound of bricks had spilled out over the cell floor, the bench barricade had prevented it from covering him completely. He clambered over the pile and ran out onto the cap park. Luckily for him, the police had left the SWAT van unlocked. He climbed in and hot-wired it with ease. He drove off down the ramp as more than twenty police officers swarmed out of the building like angry insects. Bullets deflected off the side of the SWAT van as it disappeared through the exit.  
  
Once again he had escaped the police, he patted his pocket with the paper in, now it was time for some fun! 


End file.
